Novel & Cerita How Do I Get To The Greybeards In Skyrim

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

His name is Raive. The one who, 700 years ago, had lost. The necromancer who conquered half the world with an army of the undead, but then was buried alive under a terrible curse: never to die, never to be saved. He was so feared that all necromancy curses were buried with him, so that never again could such a dangerous magician arise. Angelina – a weak historian-necromancer whose only talent was a flawless grasp of the language of the dead. Fate willed it that she find a mysterious gravestone and break the seal holding the one who was never to be released: Raive – the King of the Dead! What will happen to them next? Will the Undead King help this unknown girl or will he use her mysterious blood to regain his own power and speed his way to the throne? What can they both do when passion begins to ruin all their plans, and dark desires call forth the worst poison?

Five years ago, my girlfriend, Stacie Garcia, got crippled in an attempt to save me. Out of guilt, I stayed by her side and took on all the hardest grunt work so that I could use all of the money I've earned on her. But when I'm in the middle of cleaning a Porsche's dealership, I witness Stacie flirting with another young man there. To my shock, she's even standing without any problems. Stacie tells the man in a generous manner, "Which car do you have your eye on? I'll buy you any car no matter how expensive it is as long as you like it!"

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

The Day I Was Reborn, I Rejected the Alpha In my previous life, on my third year as Luna, I took an arrow tipped with wolfsbane meant for my Alpha mate Julian. My wolf was nearly killed, and I lay comatose for three full years. When I finally woke, Julian held my sister Lyra's hand and told me they were in love. He wanted me to step aside. My adoptive mother, Eleanor, pressured me to accept it. I refused. When the three of them closed in on me, I appealed to the Council of Elders. In the end, the Council ruled that Lyra be exiled. She couldn't bear the humiliation, and took her own life. Julian let me keep my title as Luna, but he hated me for the rest of his life. He would look at me with cold, dead eyes. "You should never have woken up. Then I wouldn't have lost Lyra." My adoptive mother blamed me too — for killing my sister, for destroying our family. Seven years later, grief and alcohol had hollowed Julian out completely. On his deathbed, the cold mask slipped. He gripped my hand. "In the next life... will you let me have Lyra?" Something in me went numb. After Julian was gone, the pack fell apart without an Alpha. Every one of them cursed me for being the one still alive. In the fighting that came after, my own pack handed me over to a rival pack. They put a dozen arrows through me. I died alone in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes, I was back — back to the day I first woke up.

Kim Evelyn—known to those closest to her as Ivy—never imagined her third wedding anniversary would turn into a nightmare. Her husband, Rico, didn’t just betray her—he brought his mistress into their bed. The pain and humiliation scorched her heart, leaving her no choice but to walk away from the home that once symbolized their love. But Ivy’s escape led her into a night that would change everything. Beneath the glimmering lights of an upscale bar, she met Joshua Miller—a dangerously charming man with a captivating smile and an offer too tempting to resist. Revenge. Sweet, calculated revenge. But there was a catch: Ivy had to surrender herself to a game far more seductive than anything she’d ever imagined. As vengeance ignited and passion flared, the line between game and reality began to blur. Dark secrets loomed. Hidden dangers stirred. And Ivy was forced to make an impossible choice—move forward and risk losing everything, or retreat into the scars of her past. Can Ivy take control of this wicked game? Or will she end up the pawn—consumed by desire, ambition, and a betrayal more dangerous than the one she fled?

They called her a Cheater. But Camille Laurent was the one who caught her husband in another woman’s arms. The night she found Marcus her husband with his mistress, she thought the truth would destroy them. Instead, it destroyed her. By morning, the scandal had a new story. Photos surfaced and headlines exploded. Camille was accused of having an affair with Adrian Steele. The husband of the Mistress her husband cheated on her with. One of the richest billionaires in Valmont. Marcus filed for a divorce during the scandal. While their spouses burned down their marriages, Camille and Adrian formed a dangerous alliance. What Valmont doesn’t know is that Camille left pregnant with twins. She isn’t just a discarded wife, she’s a long lost heiress.

Sabrina didn't even see it coming. In her defense, she didn’t mean to fall for him. It just happened. She and Ivan Golovin weren't supposed to exist but he was everything she wanted. But he's forbidden. He was her mother's best friend. And falling in love with him would cost her everything. She falls for the man not knowing he's the monster who wants to kill her.

Reborn after a tragic death, billionaire heiress Vivienne rejects the chauffeur’s leech of a son to reclaim her throne. With a secret alpha CEO by her side, she executes a cold, cinematic revenge.

All it took was a gunshot to have this criminal fucking me senseless. I'd spent months trying to bring down Antonio, the criminal I swore to put behind bars. I even set a trap for him, using someone close as bait. But instead of going down in chains, Antonio offered himself to me, in exchange for freedom. I should have said no, I should have followed the mission. But as a lonely divorcee craving warmth, how could I resist the way he touched me? The way his fingers made me forget the rules I live by? This wasn't the plan. My boss didn't send me here to get addicted to my enemy. Yet every secret night with Antonio leaves me wanting more, and drags me deeper into his dangerous world. He's supposed to die for his crimes, but unfortunately, the real crime is how badly I want him. And if the news gets out, I won't just lose my job– I'll lose my life.